The Way We Could Be
by Onesimus42
Summary: An AU pairing of Mr. Breghert with a certain Scottish housekeeper. Published originally on Tumblr
1. Returning

Charles Breghert watched as the harsh gray lines of the city disappeared and greener fields appeared outside the coach window. This was the right thing to do. It was time he was home. Past time really. He had stayed away more than he'd been home these past years because it was too difficult. Too difficult to see the sofa that his wife had had recovered with much difficulty. She had debated endlessly with herself and him between baby blue and navy blue. When he had expressed his decided preference for navy blue, she had naturally gone with baby blue. It was too difficult to walk through the familiar rooms that she had decorated and loved without her at his side. Too difficult to see her eyes looking at him from his daughter's smiling face. Too difficult to see the familiar stubborn tightening of lips fixed on his son's face. He sighed. Far too difficult.

It had been so difficult in fact that he had sought solace with another. Not in any base physical way, although he had to admit that he missed that comfort of marriage sorely as well. No, he had wanted a companion as much or more than that. Someone who would share her life and her affections with him to beat away the loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him at times. He hadn't expected love. He had no illusions about his own self. He was not a young, lively man who could excite passion in a young woman. Only one woman could ever have loved him, and he'd put the first handful of soil on her coffin himself just over four years ago. No, he hadn't expected love, but he had expected kindness and had been deeply disappointed when he realized the lack of even that emotion. She had approached the marriage in an even more business-like manner than he had, and so he had backed away from the contract. Business never worked when there were unequal expectations. Best to cut his losses while he could. Best to return home, reconnect with his family, and give up any wishes for other relationships.

He gritted his teeth and growled at the melancholic turn his thoughts were taking. He was in no fit state of mind to greet his children when he'd not seen them for a month or been to his own home for three. A quick rap on the top of the carriage got his driver's attention, and he leaned out the window to give instructions for a detour. He needed to bring his thoughts and emotions under control again, and he knew just the man to do it.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Joseph Kalisch was enjoying the late summer afternoon in his back garden, alone unfortunately, because his lovely wife was busy. When the curious woman had arrived again this afternoon, just as she had for the past two Tuesdays, he knew to leave his wife to her privacy. The woman was curious in her own nature, but he found that he was curious about her as well. Curious about what had brought her to London and curious about her interest in their religion and customs. Sarah assured him that she was a very polite woman, genuine in her interest and not just nosy. However, he still wondered, and when he next saw his prodigal friend he intended to question him closely. The creak of the side gate drew his attention, and he was pleased to see the very friend he wished to interrogate.

"Charles! This is a welcome surprise," he exclaimed as he moved to greet him, "You've returned."

Charles Breghert gave him a broad smile and clapped him on the shoulder as he took his hand, "Joseph, it is wonderful to see you, and yes I have, but not before time."

Joseph agreed, "Elizabeth and Samuel have missed you."

His friend had the good grace to look abashed, "I know, and I have missed them."

Joseph lifted his eyebrow, "Have you?"

"Of course I have," he answered indignantly, "but I have also been very foolish."

Joseph smiled to ease the tension, "Ahh, so you have come to me as Rabbi Kalisch and not Friend Joseph."

Charles fixed his eyes on the ground and then looked up, "Yes, I suppose I have. I need your counsel, Rabbi."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Her visitor was ready to leave, but Sarah would have her speak to her husband before she hurried away. Joseph was curious, and she was tired of answering endless questions about the woman who was becoming her regular Tuesday visitor. She would introduce them, and Joseph could see for himself that she was just an ordinary woman. Then perhaps he would leave her alone to enjoy her company. She found that she was coming to enjoy their Tuesday meetings and her new friend. She was practical and her questions were always sensible and insightful. A pleasant way to spend an afternoon indeed.

As they walked into the garden, she saw that her husband had a visitor as well. She turned to leave them to their private discussion, but the visitor spotted her.

"Sarah, don't go. I've looked forward to seeing you as well," Charles called out to her.

Sarah moved into the garden with pleasure and greeted her husband's guest and friend, "Charles, it's so good to see you, and you've been away far too long."

Charles reddened slightly and glanced at her husband.

"Yes, my wife," Joseph said, "That is just what we've been discussing."

Charles smiled at her warmly, and then his attention was drawn to something, someone rather, behind her. She noticed the appreciation in his gaze and then his curiosity when he turned back to her.

"Charles, surely you've met… That is, of course you must know…." Faced with his continued blank expression, she realized that he did not, "May I introduce Mrs. Elsie Hughes, your housekeeper. Mrs. Hughes, may I introduce Mr. Charles Breghert, your employer and our dear friend."

The tips of Charles's ears reddened, and Elsie's eyes widened. Charles spluttered, and Sarah delighted that she'd caught her old friend so off his usual guard.

"We have not met," he said, "That is, we have corresponded, of course, but I have not…" Then he came to himself, and Sarah saw him draw himself back under rigid control. She was almost disappointed to see it. "Mrs. Hughes, I am very glad to meet you, although I had hoped our first meeting to be in my home. All is well, I trust?"

Elsie seemed nearly as flustered as he, "I am glad to meet you as well, Mr. Breghert, and all is indeed well. Today is my half day, but if I'd known… I would never have been away from the house if I'd known you were to return."

He cut her off with a wave of his hand, and to Sarah's eyes seemed to lean imperceptivity closer to Elsie. "I had no plans to return, and I certainly cannot fault you for not reading my mind before I had even made it up. Think nothing of it."

Sarah noted the quick downturn of Elsie's eyes, and the way her cheeks tinted faintly. Charles's eyes were definitely regarding her with warm interest. Sarah was delighted, but when she chanced a glance at her husband, she saw that he wore a worried frown.

Elsie turned back to her, "Mrs. Kalisch, I thank you again for the tea and company. You have as always been most helpful."

Sarah was surprised by Charles cutting in sharply, "You will not leave yet, Mrs. Hughes."

Elsie turned back to him, and now her eyes weren't on the ground but were meeting his steadily, "I will not?"

"Of course not, I will accompany you. It's too far a distance for you to walk alone," he answered firmly, and his jaw was tight.

Elsie took a deep breath and paused for just a moment before speaking in a dangerously calm voice, "It is not so very far. I have walked that distance many times."

The muscle in Charles's jaw twitched, "Nevertheless, you are a member of my household and as such you are under my protection. You will allow me to accompany you."

Sarah nearly rolled her eyes at his stupidity, and apparently even Joseph couldn't bear to see his friend botch things so terribly. "Charles," he warned.

Sarah intervened as well, "Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Breghert has been gone for some time perhaps…."

Charles seemed to at least partially comprehend his mistake, "Mrs. Hughes, I have no right to command you here, but I do wish you'd allow me to accompany you."

She inclined her head gracefully, "But of course, sir."

There was no missing the warm smile that he gave her at the granted favor.


	2. Walking

They walked in silence for long enough that the Kalisch house was well behind them, settling into an easy rhythm. He shortened his stride slightly in deference to her, and she lengthened hers as much as she was able. She wondered if he was angry that she had been there. It had been her half day, and surely she had a right to speak to the Rabbi's wife, even if the woman was above her station. She was ultimately doing it for his benefit, after all. He hadn't seemed to be the type in his letters that would be upset about such a trivial thing. He did seem correct in his dealings, intelligent, deliberate, but the overall tone of their correspondence had been kindness. Finally, she took a deep breath, gathered all her courage, and opened her mouth to speak—unfortunately he chose the same moment.

"Mr. Breghert…" "Mrs. Hughes…"

To her chagrin, he insisted that she speak first so she plowed ahead, "Mr. Breghert, I do apologize if you felt that I overstepped myself, but I saw no harm in my meeting with Mrs. Kalisch, and she has been most helpful."

"No, no, of course not, it's quite proper that you should meet our neighbors and I have been friends with both Rabbi and Mrs. Kalisch since we were children together, although she was not Mrs. Kalisch at that time," he finished with a smile which she found impossible not to return.

"Then why…?"

"Why did I object to your leaving alone? For the simple reason that I did not wish you to have to return alone. I was perhaps more forceful than I should have been, because I was angry with myself for sending the carriage ahead. We could have ridden to the house together, and I could have spared you the walk."

She felt her cheeks heat. Perhaps it was that simple. Perhaps he was exactly who he seemed to be; a kind man who was concerned about those around him. Still, she felt the need to protest. "Mr. Breghert, I do assure you that I can walk that distance easily and have done many times."

"But you should not have done, and you will not in the future," he began harshly but then moderated his tones, "That is, I would ask that you allow me to assure that you have an escort in the future. I realize that in Ripon you might have felt free to walk alone, but here it is neither proper nor entirely safe. You must allow me to extend my protection to you. It is my duty."

She opened her mouth to protest more, but when she saw the earnestness of his expression, she held her tongue. There was a time and a place for everything, and this was neither the time nor place to spurn his well-meaning offer. She smiled and nodded.

He returned her smile with the warm one that caused her heart to swell, and then asked his question, "You said that Mrs. Kalisch had been most helpful…? I hope that you are not finding it too difficult. I know that the restrictions of our faith are new to you, but I had thought that I'd been clear."

His worried frown made her rush to reassure him, "You have been sir, very clear, and no it is not difficult to follow the requirements. "

"Yet you felt the need of other help," he prompted.

"There have been questions, sir," she said, not wanting to give quite everything away.

"Questions?" he asked. "Have you been bothered by someone objecting to your serving a family of our faith?"

"No," she was quick to reassure him, "there is no one whose opinion I regard that would ever object."

"No one whose opinion you regard," he repeated softly with his brows drawn low.

She blushed and her throat tightened. She met his eyes and shook her head slightly, willing him to not pursue that matter. He did not.

"Are you at liberty to tell me what questions Mrs. Kalisch is answering for you?" he asked, changing back to his initial line of inquiry.

She paused, wondering if she should. Nothing that she had been told was in confidence, and even if it had been, surely he deserved to know. "It is Elizabeth and Samuel. They have had questions."

"That Mrs. Kalisch could answer?" he asked and when she nodded, he frowned, "I had thought Samuel was learning all he needed in Edmonton, but I should have assured myself of that."

"He is learning a great deal sir. I believe that is why he has questions," she answered ruefully, "I have encouraged him to speak to the Rabbi, but…" She trailed off. She had no real right to speak to him about his own children.

"But?" He prompted, gracing her with his warm smile again.

She acquiesced. How could she not when she saw the sadness behind his eyes. Perhaps he knew. "He wishes to learn from you. He is..."

His smile twisted ruefully, and he glanced away before chuckling softly. "He is angry with me, possibly with good reason. My feeble attempt to teach him would likely only make that worse."

She bit her lip, wondering again if she could speak. Then she remembered Samuel's expression, which she now saw was strikingly similar to the man before her. "He is hurt, sir and sad. He misses his mother very much. And you sir."

Mr. Breghert stopped walking abruptly and when she turned she found his eyes fixed on her face and his jaw tight. She worried that she had angered him beyond repair, but it needed to be said. Then after a moment, he straightened and gave her a short nod, "Go on. You have more to say, I believe."

She wet her lips and decided that if she had said that much could just as well finish, "I believe that he has a birthday coming soon, an important one for a young man of your faith. I did not know when you would be seeing your children again, and I thought perhaps I could help."

A muscle in his jaw twitched as she watched him, and she waited for it. He was going to sack her, and it was no better than she deserved really. A man could bring up his family in any way he saw fit. She had no right to …

"I apologize to you, Mrs. Hughes. I should be the one making arrangements for my son's bar mitzvah," He hesitated for a moment and added softly, "I have been distracted for the past few months. I will take care of this duty from this point forward."

She managed not to gape at him, but couldn't gather her wits to answer him sensibly, so she merely nodded and smiled to accept his apology.

He returned her smile and offered her his arm, "Shall we continue Mrs. Hughes?"

She took his arm, enjoying the solid strength, "I believe we shall, Mr. Breghert. Quite nicely."


	3. Talking

The governess still wasn't pleased, but she was growing more used to his new habit. He couldn't see any point in sitting alone at dinner while his children had their tea upstairs. It had involved a small adjustment to his schedule, but the delight of his children had made it worthwhile. That and _her_ approving smile. Thus, now he spent his tea listening politely while Elizabeth told excitedly of her day. She was already becoming the lady he wanted her to be. He noted with amusement the way she gently prodded her brother to join the conversation instead of brooding silently. So like her mother that it made his heart crack, but only a little, and that crack was soon filled by his son's quiet, deliberate tones.

It was his son that he needed to rebuild his relationship with, however, and he did this by showing him that he now thought of him as more than just a child. He allowed Samuel to remain behind and have an after dinner drink, wine for himself and tea for the boy, after his daughter went to bed. He listened to his son's stories about school and noted the brightness of his eyes when he spoke about the sciences. There were moments that he thought he glimpsed the man his son could become, and he found that he liked that man. Hopefully, it was not too late for him to shape him a bit more. He avoided the subject of the upcoming birthday. After all, he was a businessman first and foremost, and a good one, recent decisions excepted. He knew that the most important part of any deal was trust and a strong relationship between the participants. There was time, and for now he would enjoy simply knowing Samuel and appreciating that he had such a fine young man as his son.

Long after Samuel went to bed, he stayed in the library, sipping wine and watching the lamps burn. He brooded over the last few months and chastised himself for his own foolishness. A pretty face had blinded him to the very ugly nature that lay beneath. He sat long enough that he began to feel a sharp pang of hunger and then heard a growl in the general area of his stomach. The only drawback to eating so early with his children was the need to have a second meal to tide him over until morning. He pulled himself out of his reverie to realize that the rest of the household had long since retired. No bother, he would just go and see if there was some of that excellent jam and bread that he'd found last night.

As he made his way down the steps to the kitchen, he saw a low flickering light. Was cook still awake? If that were the case, perhaps he could wheedle something a bit more filling from her, eggs and toast would be excellent. He stepped quietly into the kitchen to see that it was not the cook. No, it was her, and she was occupied enough that she didn't notice his approach. She was laying out one plate with cold chicken and bread, and another with some assorted biscuits.

He blamed the wine for the levity of his question, "Was dinner not to your liking Mrs. Hughes?"

She jumped and gasped in surprise, and he was instantly almost ashamed of himself for surprising her. He took a step toward her and brushed her elbow in apology. "I apologize, Mrs. Hughes. I shouldn't have come upon you so quietly."

Her cheeks were flaming red, and he couldn't help but notice how becoming it was. She took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Breghert, you have no need of apologizing for coming to your own kitchen, but I have to admit you gave me a fright."

"I shall attempt to avoid frightening you in the future," he said gravely, but with a small smile. Then he bowed to her to complete his apology.

She returned his smile, and his heart warmed. She stood quietly watching him until he prompted, "You still haven't answered my original question."

"Oh, no, I mean yes, dinner was to my liking. This isn't for me. It's for you. At least I thought it was for you," she said.

It was his turn to watch her quietly for a moment. It had been a long time since anyone had thought of his needs. It was a pleasant feeling. He shook his head slightly. She was his housekeeper. Of course she would think of his needs. He should read nothing else into it. "You must truly be a mind reader. I didn't even know I'd want anything to eat until five minutes ago."

She leaned toward him conspiratorially, "There have been things missing."

The tips of his ears heated. "Missing?"

"Bread and jam. Mrs. Patmore brought it to my attention. For the past 2 days, she's noticed that bread and jam have been missing. She was afraid one of the other servants might have come down for a midnight snack."

He smiled again, "But you knew better. "

"I thought, perhaps, you were used to eating at later hours when you stay at your club. I apologize for not thinking of it sooner. I thought you might want something a bit more sustaining."

He rubbed the top of his ear, "Well, it would seem my thievery has been found out, and you are correct in that something more sustaining would be welcome."

She turned as though to leave, but he stopped her, "Would you join me Mrs. Hughes? There is too much here for me to eat alone."

She hesitated so he prompted, "Everyone else in the house is asleep. I do not think it would be improper. Actually, I was wishing to speak to you about the coming week. There could hardly be anything wrong with us having a small snack while we discuss household business." Then he added hastily, "Unless you're tired of course. It is later than I realized."

She acquiesced with grace and a slight incline of her head so he held her chair for her and then sat himself.

They busied themselves with filling their plates, and he mused to himself that what had seemed a good idea just a few moments ago now had him suddenly awkward. He was acutely aware of the woman beside him and concerned about her opinion of him.

He began hesitantly, "I hope that it has not been too taxing having me here this past week instead of at my club. I find that I am enjoying the quiet and the company of my children."

She looked down and smiled before composing herself and meeting his eyes again, "I assure you, Mr. Breghert, it is no trouble to your servants to have you in your own home."

He sighed. What a stupid thing to have said and not at all what he meant. "I only meant to say that it is good to have been home these past few days instead of at my club."

"I know the children have enjoyed your being here."

They sat in silence before she broached another subject delicately, "Sir, I had understood from your correspondence that there was to be another person joining your household soon."

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair before answering, "I was mistaken. I had found someone but she was not happy with all the details of the transaction."

She looked at him sharply on his last word so he continued, "I say transaction and I mean transaction, Mrs. Hughes. For that is what I came to understand that she saw it as. I am only glad that I realized that fact before the contract was finalized." He gave her a grim smile.

She chewed her bottom lip, and he watched in quiet fascination waiting to see how far he had fallen in her eyes. Her eyes were inscrutable when they met his again. "Then I am glad as well, sir, for I do not think that would have made for a happy household."

He laughed shortly, still angry with himself. "No, nor a very solvent one either. She would have gladly bankrupted me simply to be fashionable and still would not have learned to have any affection for me." Again he answered her questioning look, "I have no illusions. She did not love me. I knew she was marrying me for my financial standing and the independence it would provide. Such marriages happen every day. My mistake was in deluding myself into believing that she had some affection for me that might grow into love. Silly of me to think that anyone could love someone like me."

"Of course someone could love someone like you," she protested, and he was fascinated by the fire he saw flash in her eyes before she caught herself and moderated her tones. "I only mean that you are a kind man and would no doubt make someone a good husband, and have already once I am sure."

His cheeks warmed, and he found himself fascinated by choosing a biscuit to eat and at a loss for words. He searched his mind for another, safer topic and thought he'd found it.

"I understood from our correspondence that you have not always been in service," he prompted, hoping that she would tell him more about herself.

She took a deep breath and seemed to find the grain of the table fascinating before saying, "I thought you wished to discuss the coming week, Mr. Breghert."

"Ah, yes, of course. Well, I only wished to tell you that I may have to spend a few nights at my club. There are one or two delicate transactions in works currently that may keep me in the city late. I would ask you to assist me with assuring my children that it will not be a recurring habit."

"I see," she smiled, "That should be little trouble. Perhaps it would help if they were not consecutive nights, if that is possible, sir."

"That should be no trouble," he said, taking a sip from his tea and determining to stay away from delicate topics.

She took a sip of tea as well and kept her eyes fixed on her cup. "We owned a hotel in Ripon, my Davey and me."

He looked up suddenly and quirked his eyebrow but didn't say anything for fear of making her shy away again.

"Then he was hurt and didn't recover. By the time he was gone there was no money left to run the hotel. I had the choice of trying for a loan, risking losing everything or selling and finding other work. You can see what my choice was."

"Ahhhh," he smiled to thank her for the confidence she'd shared and then risked another question, "That explains why you went into service, but not why you chose to travel so far from your home country to work."

She paused long enough that he was sure she wouldn't answer before continuing quietly, "There was a farmer who needed someone to help look after his farm and his son. He suggested a merger of sorts." She met his eyes with a grim smile, "A marriage that was little more than a business contract didn't appeal to me either."

He nodded, meeting her eyes gravely. "I am glad you chose to come south, Mrs. Hughes. You have already made my life infinitely easier."


	4. Remembering

She walked out of the house, holding her face up to the warmth of the sun. It would be a good day for walking, and she was looking forward to the time away from the house. Perhaps she might have liked company, but she was nearly certain that he would have forgotten in the past week, and she just as certainly had no desire to be guarded by a stable boy anyway. She rounded the corner of the house to the path that would take her to her new friend and came up short when she spotted two figures standing at the beginning of the path, waiting patiently. Her breath caught. How was that possible? She was sure he'd gone into the city early this morning. Hadn't he? Could he have stayed behind just to escort her? As soon as she had the thought, she pushed it away firmly and quickened her steps to meet them.

As she approached, two hats were doffed and two nearly identical curly brown heads (although one was a bit lower and the other was tinged with gray) were inclined in greeting. Actually the only difference between the two faces, other than the older gentleman's whiskers and those wrought by time, were deep hazel eyes in the older and bright green eyes in the younger. She couldn't help the smile that broke through. Certainly no one could mistake these two for anything other than father and son.

"Mr. Breghert, Master Samuel, are you planning a walk on this fine day?"

The taller of the two took a step toward her. "Indeed we are, Mrs. Hughes. We have an appointment with Rabbi Kalisch. Might you be walking in that direction as well?"

She tried to frown but found that she couldn't. "You know very well that I am, Mr. Breghert. I take it you've appointed yourself as guardian?"

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak but Samuel beat him to it, "And me Mrs. Hughes. I'm to escort you as well."

Mr. Breghert looked at his son in surprise which caused the boy to duck his head while the tips of his ears tinged pink.

That wouldn't do. She leaned toward the young man slightly and said, "I thank you Master Samuel, and I am glad of the company." Her eyes strayed involuntarily upwards to meet hazel ones that crinkled in appreciation and gratitude.

Mr. Breghert motioned for his son to take the lead and fell into step beside her. She wondered for a moment if he would offer her his arm, but instead he clasped his hands behind his back. He waited until Samuel was a good five paces ahead of them before he spoke.

"Thank you for your graciousness, Mrs. Hughes. Samuel is still awkward at times, especially in social situations. He takes after me in that regard, I'm afraid."

"He could do worse than take after you in many ways sir," she said firmly but then looked down when his eyes looked at her curiously. She hurried on to cover her embarrassment, "Indeed, it is almost disconcerting to see you side by side. He's nearly the mirror image of you except for…"

"The eyes," he finished for her, "Yes, he has his mother's eyes." A wave of sadness clouded his face, and her heart broke a little for him.

They walked on in silence for a few moments before he said, "Abigail, that is Mrs. Breghert, was a very kind woman. She was good with people, much better than I. She saw the best in others and was able to draw it out. Elizabeth is more like her, in looks and temperament."

She watched him from the corner of her eye as he spoke. His voice was steady, and while there was sadness on his face, it was not a deep grief. This was a man who had loved and grieved deeply but was ready to move past it.

She felt moved to share her own confidence, "I often wondered if Davey and I had been blessed with children who they would have looked like."

"You would have had beautiful children." The words were spoken so quietly that she could pretend she hadn't heard them, and her throat was so tight she could never have responded.

When the silence between them stretched again, she looked up to see that he was chewing the inside of his jaw in thought. He glanced down and met her eyes with an almost half smile. "I was angry with her for a long time. For dying," he clarified.

"We had another son, after Elizabeth. It was a difficult birth for her and him. He died when he was just four days old, before even the bris." He looked at her questioningly, and she nodded to let him know she understood. "She lingered for a few weeks, but all her will to live seemed to be gone, as though she had no reason to live. I couldn't understand it. She still had Samuel and Elizabeth, and me."

She nodded. "Davey fell and broke his back, but he could have recovered. We could still have had a life together, maybe not the life he'd have wanted, but together. I was furious with him for leaving me alone. In a way, I still am."

He released the hands that had been clasped behind his back to brush her arm lightly. "I've never told anyone else that, not even Rabbi."

"Nor I," she said softly. "Thank you."

They had nearly reached the Kalisch's home, and he straightened his back and started to lengthen his stride to reach his son. Before she thought, she stretched out her hand to grasp his upper arm and stop him.

"I have been truly grateful for your company today, Mr. Breghert," she said looking into his eyes so that he could read her sincerity.

"Truly the pleasure has been mine, Mrs. Hughes," he answered with the same sincerity.


	5. Trusting

He could feel the warmth of her fingers even through the layers of his jacket and shirt. He turned to face her and was immediately lost in the blue eyes which were searching his. His hand rose of its own accord to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing across bottom of her mouth. Bending, he replaced his thumb with his lips, caressing and tasting her, drinking her in. His hand trailed down her arm to circle her waist and then press against her back, drawing her even closer, tight against him so that he could feel her along his entire length…

The brisk knock on the door woke him. He groaned in protest and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes while he lay in bed trying to bring his desires back under control. These dreams were recurring more vividly with each passing night. He was angry and frustrated with himself for not being able to banish these thoughts. He should have better control over his own mind. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat for long minutes willing his body to relax, to calm. This dream seemed so real that he almost thought he could feel her soft curves… He stopped himself. Thoughts like that would certainly not help his body to relax.

He looked around the room that was another source of frustration for him before rising to ready himself for the day. To try to work through and suppress these feelings he was having, he had gone so far as to remove himself from his own home one or two nights each week. Now, he found that he detested staying at his club. He wanted nothing more than to be home with his children and her. She was beginning to dominate his feelings, his wishes, and even his thoughts about home. It was really becoming almost more than he could bear. It wasn't proper, but he had no idea how to resolve the situation. As he dressed, he thought over his options. Perhaps he should find another housekeeper. No. That idea was extremely distasteful for two reasons. Firstly, it was not her fault that he was having these feelings. She had made no attempt to seduce him. She was merely a kind, wise, caring, intelligent, beautiful woman to whom he was helplessly drawn. Secondly, she was an excellent housekeeper. His home hadn't run this efficiently for years. The other servants respected her, even Mrs. Patmore, and his children adored her.

The only other option that he could see was just as impossible as far as he was concerned. He could leave. He had the means, and could no doubt even find the excuse of work, to go away. He could go to the continent. Perhaps travel for a month or more. While on the surface the idea was appealing, he was almost certain that even such a trip would not banish her from his mind. Regardless, he had no intention to leave just as he'd begun to rebuild his relationship with his children. Samuel and Elizabeth needed him. They needed his guidance and his presence in their lives. A tiny voice in the back of his mind also whispered that he would never wish to leave her behind for that long either. She was becoming such an integral part of his life that even one night away from home seemed nearly unbearable.

As he worked the knot of his tie, he came to a decision. He should talk to Joseph about it, as Joseph and not as Rabbi. Surely his oldest friend could make him see sense. Glancing down at his watch before tucking it into his waistcoat pocket, he realized that he would need to finish his business quickly today if he wanted to keep their regular Tuesday appointment. Even as he was struggling against his feelings, he had been unable to deny himself the selfish pleasure of their walks these past weeks. The quiet stroll to the Kalisch house from his own had become the highlight of his week. For a quarter hour there and the same back, he could foolishly pretend, to himself at least, that they were a couple walking out to visit friends. Samuel was always with them of course and twice Elizabeth had joined them as well. That was almost better. He could see the family they could become. That is, the family they could become if he had seen any sign she could care for him personally in the way that he cared for her.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

He was even more frustrated now than he had been this morning. First he'd been delayed by business, and now this unexpected rain, if rain in England could ever be considered unexpected. The carriage was moving at an abominably slow pace. He had missed the Tuesday afternoon walk to the Kalisch house but had still been hoping that he could join them for the return walk. When the rain began in earnest, he had only hoped that he could arrive in time to spare her a damp and muddy walk. Now, though, the carriage was moving so slowly that he feared he would never arrive in time. As it was, it was over an hour past the time when they would normally have left when his carriage pulled to the front door of his friend's house. Even as he was opening his carriage door, Joseph stepped out to greet him.

"Ah, my reliable friend," he said smiling and ushering him into the foyer, "she knew you would come."

"She?" he asked, heart speeding.

"My wife's new friend and the keeper of your house," Joseph said with an amused look as he took his coat and hat to hang on the rack by the door. "I offered to take them home, but she assured me that you would come and not disappoint your son. It seems her faith is well placed."

His cheeks warmed and his heart swelled. She trusted him. Might that not be a good beginning?

He stepped through to the sitting room where his eyes sought and found blue ones first before moving on to find that both his son and daughter were here as well. His heart swelled again at seeing his family. Then, he greeted Sarah warmly and apologized for his lateness as much for _her_ benefit as for his hosts'.

"It is late and wet," Sarah said simply, "You will join us for tea before leaving."

His eyes sought the blue ones again and he was pleased to see a small nod. He accepted the invitation gratefully. They would eat with their friends and at least some pleasure of the day would be salvaged.

Sarah left to inform the cook and Joseph stepped out to instruct his driver to come to the kitchen for his own meal. He took the opportunity to express his gratitude to the woman who had placed her trust in him.

He placed his hand on the back of the chair where she was sitting and leaned down to speak quietly, "I thank you for waiting for me. I'm grateful to have not missed this time."

She placed her hand on his arm. "I knew you would come, sir. You would never disappoint."

He looked down at the hand resting on his arm. He could feel her warmth even through the layers of coat and shirt. Covering her hand with his own, he said, "I will endeavor to deserve your trust, madam."

Trust was a very good beginning


	6. Arguing

She walked with quick, angry steps back toward the house thinking over the events of the evening. That man had infuriated her. He had shown up yesterday insisting that she speak with him. At least she'd managed to put it off until today and have their discussion which had quickly turned bitter, at least on his part, away from the house. Her only regret was that she was now walking back to the house alone at dusk. Thank goodness Mr. Breghert would be staying at his club. He would be most displeased at her desertion by her escort. She would be fine though. She'd walked alone many times. There was nothing to worry her; nothing except the usual sounds of the night coming from the woods beside the lane which seemed more ominous now that she was alone.

She rounded a corner and suddenly she met a man on the path. He was large and coming directly toward her. It was difficult to make out his exact features. Her heart began to race, and she clutched her reticule tighter. Then she noticed the familiar set of the shoulders and her fear changed to relief and quickly flashed to irritation. Was he out here looking for her?

"Mr. Breghert?"

"Mrs. Hughes," he answered then looked around her with a scowl on his face, "You're walking alone?"

"I am," she answered back, scowl beginning to form on her own features. "I have told you many times that I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own."

"I understand that," he said, "but I had understood you had an escort this evening, a friend from home."

She sighed, frustration increasing exponentially, "I did, but he went back to his inn."

"And left you to walk alone in the dark," he said and the disapproval in his voice was nearly palpable.

She ground her teeth, "We did not part amicably. I was as grateful to be out of his presence as he was to be out of mine."

"But still…" he began and she decided to cut this discussion short.

"And what brings you out Mr. Breghert. Were you walking anywhere in particular?"

He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. "I thought a walk after tea would be pleasant."

"In the dark," she stated flatly.

"It was not dark when I began," he said stiffly, and then turned, "Perhaps we should continue back to the house. I hope you won't object to my escorting you the rest of the way."

She sighed. Frustrating man. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your exercise. I can find my way."

He turned his head to look back at her with an inscrutable expression, "No, I believe I've walked far enough."

He held his arm out to her and after just a moment's hesitation, she took it. She was beginning to tire after all. His arm was firm and strong beneath her hand so she took a moment to lean toward him gratefully.

"You tremble, Mrs. Hughes," he said softly, "Are you cold?"

"No, I…," she started to dissemble but then decided that she might as well share the embarrassing truth, "If you must know, Mr. Breghert, I was afraid when you came upon me. I didn't recognize you at first."

He covered the hand on his arm with his own, "Then I apologize for frightening you once again, Mrs. Hughes. Please forgive me."

She resisted the urge to turn her hand over and touch his palm with her own, but she couldn't quite suppress the shiver that ran through her at the gentle caress of his voice. To cover her embarrassment, she took a step forward, forcing him to walk as well.

"I had thought you were staying at your club tonight, sir," she said, hoping to turn the conversation away from the personal.

His shoulders rolled uncomfortably again, and he said, "Yes, well, I was able to finish my work sooner than I thought, and since there is only one more day before Samuel's bar mitzvah I thought to spend it here. Even if it meant late travel, I would much rather spend the night in my own bed."

She smiled at the thought of the young man. "He's nervous, but surely he'll do well."

"He's still afraid he'll mispronounce a word. Perhaps we'll go over it one last time tomorrow."

"Mrs. Patmore has everything ready," she nodded, "I understand the Kalischs will join you for your meal."

His eyebrows drew down low, "The Kalischs will join us, Mrs. Hughes. I thought you understood that you would be lunching with us as well."

"Sir," she protested, "I couldn't. I mean, it wouldn't be proper."

"You have been a great help to Samuel in this. I am sure he would want you to share our meal, and you have become Sarah's friend, I believe."

"But still…"

"You are worried about gossip? Who would say anything? The Kalischs are friends. If the other servants protested, who would mind?" He smiled, "They would likely just believe it to be some obscure custom of our faith."

"Sir," she began again, shaking her head.

"No," he cut her off firmly, "For Samuel's sake."

She acquiesced, "For Samuel's sake."

He nodded and then turned the conversation in a way she wished he wouldn't. "I am sorry that your visit with your friend from home wasn't pleasant."

She looked at him sideways. It would hurt nothing to tell him, actually it might help ease some of the anger that she still felt. "He asked a question, and I did not give him the answer he wished."

She saw him swallow and felt the slightest hesitation in his step. "I see. This was your farmer; the one who offered you marriage as a business arrangement?"

"It was," she said, "He came to assure me that it was more than business on his part, and he thought that would make all the difference."

"But it did not?" he asked, looking down at her. She met his gaze and nodded, not quite able to voice her answer. He continued, "I suppose it is little wonder that he was upset then, but still he should not have left you to walk such a distance alone."

"It was not my answer that angered him," she said.

He looked at her questioningly, "Then why would he not ensure that you were safe?"

She paused. Should she tell him this? Surely it was nothing that he hadn't heard before. "He couldn't understand why I would rather serve one of your faith than return home to a respectable marriage. He said some disparaging things."

His jaw tightened. "Mrs. Hughes, I appreciate your being upset, but there is no need for you to have cross words on my behalf."

She stopped walking. "There is every need. He was cruel, ignorant, and wrong. I couldn't bear that in silence simply to avoid unpleasantness. I left him behind Mr. Breghert. I would rather take my chances alone."

He lifted his hand to calm her. "Mrs. Hughes, people despise what they do not understand. You shouldn't…"

She stood straighter and meet his gaze squarely, "Mr. Breghert, it is you who does not understand, at least in this instance." She bit her lower lip and dropped her gaze from his eyes to his shoulder. Perhaps it would help if she told the rest of her story to him. When she met his eyes again, he was still watching her patiently.

"You remember that I told you Davey was injured?"

"Yes, and he didn't recover," he said softly. "If you don't wish to tell me more then you needn't. I'm sure his death is still painful for you."

"No, actually, no it's not, at least not as painful as it was," she said, "It's not that I wished to tell you."

He squared his shoulders and turned toward her fully, lifting his eyebrows to let her know he was ready to listen.

_**Reviews are welcome as always**_


	7. Privileges

He stood watching her, waiting patiently. This was important to her, and he sensed that it would be to him as well. At least it would be important to understanding her, and he welcomed any confidence that aided him in that way. Her hand had slipped from his arm when he turned to face her, but he resisted the urge to take it. She needed no distractions, and regardless, she was so close that he could feel her breaths against his chest and still sense her tremors. Again, he resisted the urge to offer her his cloak. He was afraid that she would see that as too much, too personal.

"I've told you that when Davey was injured, he didn't die right away," she looked up at him, "Your wife lingered as well, I believe?"

"Three very short, very long, weeks," he said, the memory of her pain during those weeks coming back to him.

"It was nine months for Davey. He was home from the hospital after the first month," she said, "He had no use of his legs at all, and I was alone."

He looked at her with admiration. That would have been difficult added to her other responsibilities. "And you still had your business to run," he said softly.

"Not very well, I'm afraid," she said, "My focus was all on Davey, keeping him well."

"And there was no family to help?" he asked, concern for her plight drawing his brows low.

She laughed shortly, "Davey had three brothers. They visited, brought flowers or fruit. Then they went home. I can't really blame them. They had their own families, but still, I was," she searched for the word, "overwhelmed."

He nodded, keeping his opinion of the duty of her brothers-in-law to himself.

"Don't misunderstand me, Mr. Breghert. We settled into a rhythm, and I think we could have been happy together once we found some balance. I'd gladly still be caring for him today if I had the choice, but well, you know what happened."

"I know you Mrs. Hughes. I know that you cared for your husband." His words were so soft that he wasn't sure whether he spoke or merely thought them until he saw her relieved expression.

She continued, "Suddenly, I found myself on my own with no husband and a business that was in danger of bankruptcy. I'm not a poor businesswoman, but my judgment was clouded. I felt it my duty to save the business anyway that I could; that I would still have a bit of Davey that way. The only way that I could think to do that was by seeking a loan."

He nodded. He could understand that. Had he not kept the decidedly worn baby blue sofa simply because it reminded him of Abigail?

"My brothers-in-law encouraged me to get a loan. I think they thought their sons could have the hotel someday, and Mr. Burns offered his merger." There was more than a tinge of bitterness in her tone.

"But they did not help," he said gruffly and met her curious look. Perhaps a confession of his own was in order. "When you told me of your predicament, I investigated the transaction. I wanted to assure myself that you hadn't been cheated. You went to Robert Jacobson, I believe."

He was sure she'd be furious with him, but she smiled faintly and shook her head in wonder.

"Yes, Mr. Jacobson examined my books, listened politely, and told me that he could offer me a loan," she said, "Then he explained patiently why that would be a very foolish thing for me to do. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for me in months."

He looked at her in puzzlement. She saw that as a kindness?

She answered his look with a sad smile. "I am not a stupid woman, Mr. Breghert. When Mr. Jacobson took the time to review my books with me, I could see what he saw. I would likely work myself near to death and still have been bankrupt in five years. His kindness was in explaining this to me. He could no doubt have made a great deal of money from simply giving me the loan, accepting my payments and then taking possession of the hotel in five years."

He nodded. That much was true. "But that would have been taking advantage and we are…"

"Commanded to not take advantage of widows and orphans," she finished for him, "That is just what Mr. Jacobson said."

He was beginning to understand, but now he was concerned for a different reason. Did she think that was the only reason he'd been kind to her?

"Do you understand, Mr. Breghert? In all those months, the only person who was truly helpful was one of your faith, not my family or friends, only one who was a stranger to me. And then now, you, Samuel, Elizabeth, and the Kalischs. Can you see how I couldn't tolerate a slight against any of you?"

He nodded slowly, glad of her defense, but at the same time a fist tightened around his heart. She saw him as only a good man generally concerned for her welfare, not as someone that she could care for in the way that he cared for her. His eyes dropped to the ground, and he swallowed down his disappointment. Then, he pulled himself together and met her eyes again. There was no need for her to guess his feelings.

Something in her eyes made the tension in his chest ease. He couldn't have named what he saw if he tried, but it was there. He had the same feeling that he had when it was time to seal a transaction. He _knew_ that now was the moment. He didn't dare let it pass. He searched his mind for a way to communicate his intentions to her.

"You are quite right that we are commanded generally to take especial care of widows, orphans, strangers," he said, "But there are others that we have the privilege to care for; our families, friends, spouses…"

He saw her eyes widen slightly and sensed another shiver. He unfastened his cloak, "I fear that you are suffering from the chill. Would you allow me the privilege of sharing my cloak with you? Of keeping you warm?"

She nodded, eyes still fixed on his until he placed his cloak on her shoulders. Then she looked down at his hands while they worked the fastener at her throat. His hands trembled when they brushed her neck, and she covered his hand with her own to still the tremor.

He turned his hand over so that he could curl his fingers around hers and then lifted her hand to his lips. When he had placed a gentle kiss there, she turned her hand and stroked the edge of his jaw with her thumb. He swallowed again.

"We should continue now," he said, voice hoarser than he would have wished.

"It would be my privilege," she answered, eyes brighter than he'd ever seen them.

_**Reviews are always welcome**_


	8. Wondering

She paused to look at herself in the mirror. Surely she looked different. She certainly felt different after last night. Studying her reflection carefully, she could find nothing altered, except perhaps the smile that she couldn't banish from her lips for long. In truth, she supposed that nothing had changed. He would still look at her in the same way, and she would still look at him in the same way. Only now she knew what lay behind those glances. She had suspected, had not dared to hope, but she hadn't known. Knowing made all the difference.

She took a deep breath and then stepped out of her room, hoping that no one, especially Mrs. Patmore would guess her secret, but she couldn't hide forever. She would just have to be careful. First she stopped by the parlor to see that her maids were cleaning as she'd instructed last night. They would need to be diligent to ensure that all would be ready. Nothing should interfere with Samuel's special day. She smiled at the thought; a man at thirteen. He would be a good man, much like his father. Her smile deepened when she thought of _him_, the deep hazel eyes and soft lips.

She stepped out of the parlor and ran directly into the broad chest of the man who had occupied her dreams and thoughts.

"Mrs. Hughes," he said, hands on her arms first to steady her and then lingering for quite another reason. "I had hoped to find you early this morning."

"And you did, Mr. Breghert," she was nearly breathless from the warmth of his caressing fingers that she could feel through her sleeves. That would never do. She would have to get her emotions under control. "I trust you slept well."

"I hardly slept at all," he said, then suddenly realized what his hands were doing. He dropped his arms to his sides and took a half step back.

"Would you walk with me this morning after breakfast?" he asked. "There is much we should discuss, and I feel that it might be easier away from the house."

"It would be my privilege," she said and was rewarded by a brightening of the hazel eyes along with a warm smile.

%%%%%%%

She walked into the back garden to find him already waiting there for her. He was looking away from the door so she had a moment to study him. She had admired him before of course; his thick hair, his strong jaw, his broad shoulders, the overall sturdiness of him. But now, she could look at him in a new way. She was free to wonder what it would feel like to be held in his arms, to rest her head on his shoulder, to run her fingers through his hair, to press her cheek to his. She had an overwhelming curiosity to know what his side whiskers would feel like. Would they be soft or would they itch? How long would it be before she found out?

He turned toward her then so she joined him. He held out an arm that she took gladly, leaning against his strength for a brief moment. His hand covered hers, and he caressed the back of her fingers with his thumb.

"I apologize, my dear," he said and she squeezed his arm in appreciation of the endearment, "I was so surprised this morning that I failed to enquire as to whether you slept well or even to greet you properly."

"And how would you greet me properly, my dear Mr. Breghert?" she asked, glancing up at him.

He stopped, took her hand and lifted it to his lips where he placed a lingering kiss on her fingers. He kept his eyes on her and murmured, "Good morning my dearest Mrs. Hughes. I trust you slept well?"

"Not very well, but I don't mind," she answered, enjoying the sensation of his breath against her fingers as he spoke.

He straightened but kept her hand in his. His eyebrows drew together in concern, "It was not regret that troubled you I hope."

"No, no, not at all," she assured him quickly then wondered how best to tell him. "I spent the night thinking how much better knowing was than wondering and perhaps doing a bit more wondering."

"Knowing?"

She nodded, "Knowing that the way you look at me means what I had hoped instead of wondering."

"I see," his head dropped to the side, "As for me, I spent most of the night hoping that you would not find my attentions as unwelcome as I feared."

She squeezed his fingers, "Not unwelcome at all. Far from it."

"I am glad, very glad," he said, tightening his own grip on her fingers. "And what did you wonder?"

Her cheeks heated when she thought of the turn most of her wonderings had taken last night. She settled on confessing one of the safest, "I wondered what your whiskers might feel like. Are they soft or coarse?"

He chuckled in surprise then surprised her by turning her hand over and lifting her palm to his cheek. She stroked his whiskers and jaw with her fingers while he closed his eyes in pleasure.

He opened his eyes after a moment, and she saw they had darkened immeasurably. Her breath quickened but she answered the question she saw there. "Soft."

His voice was low and hoarse, "Was there anything else you wondered?"

She caught her lip between her teeth, not quite able to voice her greatest curiosity. Her eyes darted down to his lips, and he understood and answered her unspoken request.

He slowly dipped his head to press his lips to hers. The kiss was brief but gentle, leaving her wanting more. He lifted his head to look in her eyes and again seemed to read her desire there. Dipping his head again, their second kiss was still gentle but there was something more there, something harder. There was want and need and a promise of more. His arms went around her to draw her close and her hand moved from his cheek to curl into the short hairs at the base of his neck. When he pulled back they were both breathless and trembling.

He pressed his forehead to hers but kept his arms around her. She was glad. She couldn't have stood on her own if her life depended on it. After several moments, he said, "I believe we should perhaps leave further knowing for another time. Yes?"

She laughed softly and nodded, "Yes. I think that would be wise Mr. Breghert."

He frowned slightly, "I did wonder what it might be to hear you say my given name."

"Charles," she said rolling the 'R'.

He swallowed and pulled her closer, "Perhaps it would be best if we stayed with Mr. Breghert for just a little while longer."

"Not for long, I hope," she said, meeting his eyes.

"Not for long," he agreed, "I do not think I could tolerate wondering and not knowing for very long."

_**Reviews are welcome as always**_


	9. Resting

Charles leaned back in his chair and half-listened to the story his friend was telling. His eyes were hooded, and his attention was continually drawn to the women sitting across the parlor, or actually to one of the women. Mrs. Hughes, Elsie, even in his mind he savored her name, was speaking quietly to Sarah. Elizabeth was sitting with them and listening attentively. He had no idea what was being said, but he could occasionally distinguish the low tones of her voice and those alone made him smile.

He forced himself to turn his attention back to the story Joseph was telling Samuel and smiled to see the way his son held himself. This was a good day. His son had become bar mitzvah and had recited the blessing perfectly. He now knew that the woman he cared for returned his interest, and he was in the company of friends who were closer to him than family.

His attention was drawn back to his daughter who had approached him quietly. "Is it time, Papa?"

He glanced at the window to see that the sky had darkened considerably. He smiled, "Yes, I believe it is." He glanced back at his son as he rose from his chair, wondering if he would think himself too old for this ritual, "Will you join us?"

His son hesitated, and Joseph noticed. His wise friend rose from his chair, "I believe I will if you do not mind the company."

At that, his son gratefully rose and started toward the door. Sarah stood as well, but Elsie hesitated. His friends had been watching their interactions surreptitiously during the meal. Perhaps now was the time to confirm their suspicions. He stepped toward her and held out his hand. "Come."

She rose and took his hand. He squeezed her fingers gently and drew her toward the door where Elizabeth, Samuel, and the Kalischs were waiting. He explained as they walked, "I have told you that Shabbat begins on Friday at sundown. It ends on Saturday when we are able to see the first three stars in the sky. It has always been our tradition to look for those stars together. My father did the same with me when I was a boy and no doubt his father with him." He kept her hand in his throughout his explanation. When he had finished, he drew her arm through his elbow and glanced up to meet Joseph and Sarah's eyes. Sarah was struggling to hold back a smile, but Joseph's face was inscrutable. He sighed inwardly and vowed to have that discussion tonight before his friend returned home.

They stepped out into the beginning of the night, and he noted the coolness. Autumn was upon them. Samuel would return to school soon. He leaned down to speak quietly beside her ear, "I have no cloak to warm you tonight, but we will not be out here long."

His cheek was so close to hers that he could feel the warmth when she blushed. "I believe that I am quite warm enough."

He smiled but chose to keep any further comments for a more private time, turning his attention to his daughter instead. He watched while she searched the sky for the first stars and spoke quietly to the woman at his side, "It is usually just the children and I, but…"

"Samuel would not have come if Joseph had not," she finished for him, and he nodded at her perceptiveness.

"And I thought you might like to see. To be included," he said keeping his eyes fixed on his daughter.

She squeezed his forearm gently, "Thank you."

"I see two, Papa," his daughter said excitedly.

"Then we must wait for the third," he said, smiling at her joy in this simple act. Then he saw Samuel lean down to whisper to his sister. He pointed at the sky. She looked, and he could see her lips move as she counted.

"Three," she said, "See. There is the third star."

He turned his gaze from his daughter's excited face and looked up at the sky. "So it is. Now, we should return to the warmth. We wouldn't want anyone to catch cold." He covered the hand on his arm and patted it lightly.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Once they were back inside, and he'd sent his daughter to bed, he turned to his son. "You are certainly old enough to stay with us, but I believe Rabbi would like to speak to me alone."

Samuel nodded and bid them goodnight before walking to where the ladies were sitting on the baby blue sofa. Charles turned to pour glasses of wine. He would leave the ladies with their refreshment and take Joseph to the study, better to have this discussion away from Mrs. Hughes. He wanted nothing to be said which would offend her.

Samuel bowed to the ladies and bid Mrs. Kalisch goodnight before turning to Mrs. Hughes. His ears tinted pink and when his father heard his next words, his matched them. "Mrs. Hughes, I would like to thank you for all you've done, and also, we, Elizabeth and I, want you to know that we are very glad about you and Papa. You've been very kind, and we look forward to…well, we are very glad." He bowed to her and then walked quickly out of the room before Charles could think to chastise him, if he'd even wanted to.

He turned and quirked an eyebrow at Elsie in apology. Her face was surely nearly as red as his and his son's.

Chancing a glance at Sarah, he saw that she was biting her lower lip but looking decidedly amused. When she caught his eye, she said, "Your son certainly has your way with words, Charles."

While he was trying to think of an appropriate response, Elsie spoke, "He is like his father in that regard, I am told."

He glanced at the mutineer sharply but couldn't help returning her warm smile.

Joseph laughed softly and agreed, "He is like his father in many ways, Mrs. Hughes. I am sure you will come to see that for yourself given time."

Charles felt the tension that had been building ease from the room, but he still looked to Joseph.

"I believe that you can see what I wished to discuss with you."

"But of course, my friend, Shabbat is over. I may begin my work as Rabbi," Joseph answered as he rose.

They excused themselves from the ladies, and he led Joseph to his study. A small part of him wished he knew what the ladies would discuss in his absence.

_**Reviews are welcome as always.**_


	10. Asking

Charles gestured Joseph into his study before him and then closed the door behind them. Joseph would never say anything deliberately hurtful, but his relationship with Elsie was so new, so delicate that he was fearful of any possible injury. He had seen the glint in Joseph's eye earlier. His friend had decided to become Rabbi for the rest of the evening, and Charles was sure to bear the brunt of his advice, which could be blunt at times.

"Charles, my friend," he began, "I am happy for the understanding you seem to have come to with Mrs. Hughes. She is an excellent woman."

Charles grunted in surprise, "We agree on that at least."

"I have no doubt we agree on a great many things," Joseph leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine.

Ahh, the relaxed lecturer. Charles recognized this posture from their days together as school boys. Joseph would agree with most of what Charles thought but still manipulate his opinion to match what the Rabbi thought was best. He set his jaw stubbornly and agreed with a nod of his head, "No doubt we do."

Joseph looked at him sharply and began again, "A most excellent woman; a widow, alone, far from family. It is good of you to take her under your protection."

Charles' jaw and throat tightened. Trust Joseph to immediately hit upon his greatest concern.

"Of course, some might think you were taking advantage…" Joseph's voice trailed off, but his eyes met Charles's squarely.

Charles kept his eyes on his friend's, "Do you think I have not thought of that? I have separated myself as much as I felt that I could these last two months. I have struggled against my attraction to her for that very reason, but then when I realized that she might feel the same for me I could hold myself back no longer."

Joseph studied his eyes for a moment, then nodded, satisfied, "I believe you, my friend. You are not one to take advantage, but you must be prepared for those questions and others. Of course now you raise another problem. If your attraction is as strong as you say, is living in the same house with this woman wise?"

Charles lifted his hand to attempt to massage away the ache that had settled in his temple. "Probably not, which is why beginning tomorrow evening I will be spending the nights at my club."

"You'll abandon your children again?" Joseph asked to his great annoyance.

"No, of course not, I'll take my tea here and spend time with them then return to the club. It will mean quite a bit of travel for me and very little sleep, but it will only be for a few weeks. I intend to obtain the soonest appointment available with the registrar," he said and moved his hand to the back of his neck where the muscles were tightening.

"Things have progressed quickly for you to have decided on marriage so soon," Joseph observed and then responded to Charles's pained look, "You have decided haven't you? That is, you've discussed this plan of yours with Mrs. Hughes."

"Well, we've not actually discussed it as such," Charles said. He had fully intended to ask her yesterday morning, but then he had been distracted with their wonderings.

Joseph looked at him incredulously and then leaned back his head and laughed wholeheartedly. Charles twisted uncomfortably and scowled at his friend. "I am reasonably certain that a Rabbi shouldn't laugh when giving advice."

Joseph sobered somewhat, "I am reasonably certain that you should ask a lady to marry you before you schedule the wedding."

Charles was thrown off balance, "Well, I had intended…that is, I was going to speak to her yesterday morning, but, um, we were distracted. And then I was busy with Samuel and Shabbat…"

"You were distracted yesterday morning," Joseph stated flatly and then added with a wry twist of his mouth, "You certainly should not remain under the same roof."

Charles's face flamed at his quick assessment of the reason for his distraction.

His friend sighed, "Why the registrar?"

It was Charles's turn to look at his friend incredulously, "Well, we certainly couldn't be wed in a Christian church, and while she is a righteous woman, she is not of our faith. The only option would be the registrar."

"Are you so very sure?" his friend asked softly.

"Of course, I'm sure," he said but not at all sure that he was following the thread of the conversation.

Joseph met his eyes squarely, "You have been quite correct in your observances these past weeks, my friend; early to synagogue each week. So early that you have not seen some who arrive later."

He looked at his friend in confusion and then glanced involuntarily toward the sitting room. "She has been coming to synagogue?"

Joseph studied the glass of wine in his hand, "Sometimes there are those that ask to join our faith. I usually discourage them, but occasionally they are persistent. If I believe that they are sincere, then I encourage them to attend synagogue, begin to follow our laws, and learn all they are able of our commandments. Your Mrs. Hughes has spent a great deal of time with Sarah. Sarah tells me she is learning much."

Charles began to drum his fingers on the arm of his chair and then glanced back again to the sitting room. When he turned his gaze back on his Rabbi, he saw that he was being watched steadily.

"She has asked to join our faith, even before we were...?" Charles asked, feeling incredibly slow and hardly able to believe it. He had imagined they would share most of their lives with each other, but not this. He had hoped she would accept his faith and perhaps even participate to a certain degree just as she had tonight, but still follow her own religion. To think that they would share this part of their lives was-he could think of no other way to put it-a gift.

Joseph read his expressions as easily as he had when they were youths together, "I do not think it would be proper to divulge a confidence, but I do believe you should discuss this with your Mrs. Hughes, perhaps when you actually ask her to marry you," he stifled a smile, "If you would be willing to wait, then perhaps you would not need an appointment with the registrar."

Charles shook his head and rose from his chair, "We cannot wait that long. It would be a year at least, yes?"

Joseph lifted his hands, "It takes as long as it takes, but yes, a year at least. Are you really so eager for companionship that you could not even wait that long?"

Charles waved his hand irritably and raised his voice for the first time, "You cannot understand this Joseph."

Joseph stood as well and raised his eyebrows, "I cannot? Remember, I have been in love and eager as well. Do you not remember how long it took for Sarah's parents to accept me? You listened to my moanings often enough." His face softened into a smile, "For that matter, I still am in love and hope always to be."

Charles spared him a smile and then explained patiently, "The reason you cannot understand this is that you have not suffered as we have. Both Mrs. Hughes and I have lost one that we loved deeply. Can you imagine how many times I have wished for even one more day with Abigail?"

Joseph shook his head sadly and there was a new understanding in his eyes, "Then, my friend, you must _ask _her, without delay."

Charles's mouth was suddenly dry. He drank the rest of his wine, then set the glass down firmly and said, "I will." He started toward the door.

"Now?" Joseph asked in surprise; hand on his arm to stop him.

"Now," Charles said, nodding and pulling his arm away.

Joseph shook his head in bemusement. "At least let Sarah and I take our leave. You don't need an audience, unless you want to call the children down. You could just have Samuel ask her. He seems to have no problems with finding words."

Charles frowned at his feeble attempt at humor.

"And don't tell her that you already plan an appointment with the registrar," Joseph said, thrusting his finger into Charles's chest.

"I am not completely ignorant, Joseph," Charles said indignantly, "I will have you to know that I make business contracts worth thousands of pounds on a daily basis."

Joseph snorted, "Says the man who was so distracted he forgot to ask a simple question."

"It is not a simple question," Charles said, "and none of those businessmen are as distracting as Mrs. Hughes."

"How hard can the question be? Four words. Five if you add please," Joseph shrugged, "And the only answers are yes, no, and maybe. Just don't let yourself get distracted."

Charles's jaw clenched. Infuriating man, even if he was his oldest and dearest friend, "Joseph, take your wife and leave. I will call on you tomorrow to let you know the answer."

Joseph graced him with a half bow, "Bring Mrs. Hughes with you. We will have much to discuss." He paused again and gave Charles his widest smile, "And good luck."

_**Reviews are welcome as always**_


	11. Proposing

Elsie's mind drifted during her conversation with Sarah. Her eyes were occasionally drawn to the door separating them from the study. Surely they wouldn't have angry words over her, would they? She had some idea of what they might discuss and was worried what effect it might have on this newly budding relationship. Mr. Breghert, Charles she thought with an inward smile, had seemed tense when the men had excused themselves. Of course that might be due to his son's forward declaration. Her lips curled in a smile at the thought, such a gentleman. He would be very like his father someday, and that was not at all a bad thing to be.

Suddenly the door opened, and Charles all but burst through. His face was flushed, but he didn't seem angry, just full of a nervous kind of energy. His eyes met hers and softened. She glanced behind him at Rabbi to judge his mood. Not angry either. He was almost smiling actually. At least they'd resolved whatever they felt they needed to discuss in private.

The Rabbi and his wife took their leave after just a few words of farewell, and she was left alone with Charles who now couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her or to stand still. He walked to the sideboard and lifted the decanter of wine as though to pour himself a glass then set it back down. He looked back to her and then at the sofa. He took a step toward it as though he intended to sit down and then stopped short. He tugged on his sleeves, rolled his shoulders, and turned to face her fully.

"Mrs. Hughes," he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and asked, "would you sit with me for a little while?" He indicated the sofa with a wave of his hand, and so she sat down on one end. He sat too close for her peace of mind. Goodness, he smelled wonderful. It took all her willpower not to lean into his sturdy warmth. He took her hand in both of his and sat with his head bowed, studying her fingers. When he began to trace her knuckles with his thumb, she could bear it no longer.

"Mr. Breghert, do you think it entirely wise for us to remain here, alone and without a chaperone?"

His head came up sharply, and his brows were drawn low. "I am very sorry if I have not earned your trust Mrs. Hughes." He sounded deeply hurt.

She was unwilling to hurt him merely to save her own pride. "It is not you that I mistrust."

His eyes opened wider and his grip on her hand tightened, "Is it possible that you are as drawn to me as I am to you?"

She glanced down at their joined hands and said quietly, "I think perhaps I might be. That is, if you are wishing very much to repeat our activities of yesterday morning."

His eyes sparkled and a smiled tugged at his lips, "I do, Mrs. Hughes, very much. That is what I wished to discuss with you."

"You wished to discuss kissing me?" she asked and her eyes were drawn once more involuntarily to his lips.

He swallowed nervously and his eyes dipped down from hers to her lips. He rose suddenly and began to pace, rubbing the top of his ear vigorously, "Um, no, not exactly. That is, perhaps you are right and we should not sit quite so close, at least not while we are alone."

She wasn't sure if she was more relieved or disappointed. She blamed her exasperated tone on her confusion over her own feelings, "Then what was it you wished to discuss with me? I'm very tired. Perhaps this could wait until morning."

He stopped suddenly and faced her squarely, "I wish to marry you."

All her exhaustion fled and she stared at him, eyes wide. He closed his eyes and muttered, "Poorly done. Very poorly done."

He knelt before her and took her hand in his again, "I mean to say, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife? Of allowing me to extend my protection to you fully?"

"This is very sudden...," she said, voice trailing off in disbelief.

Now his eyes narrowed and he began to plead his case, "Is it? We began corresponding over five months ago, about household business admittedly, but still I was intrigued by the intelligent woman behind those letters. I thought perhaps she might be someone interesting to know. Then when we met, I felt myself drawn to you even though I knew it wasn't proper."

She pulled her hand from his, "Of course it isn't proper. We are not of the same station, and I am not of your faith. You should not marry someone like me." She pushed at his chest and started to stand but he would not budge, "This has all been a pleasant but ill-advised interlude."

He frowned deeply and his hands lifted as though to grasp her shoulders, but he did not touch her. He spoke earnestly, "That is not at all what I meant. It was not proper because you were a widow, alone in a strange place with no family nearby. I was afraid that you would see any attentions that I paid you as taking advantage. I would not have waited even this long if I could have felt sure you might return my feelings."

She sat back down and studied his eyes, expression softening, "As if you could take advantage of anyone."

"I would not take advantage of you," he said, "but I am a businessman so I would not say that I would not take advantage of anyone. And you were a businesswoman until your unfortunate setback so as to that we are on equal footing."

She would not be deterred so easily, "There is still the matter of your faith."

"There is," he said, "and a few months ago I was an irregular follower of my faith at best. I would have said that a difference in our faith would make no difference between us. Since I have been helping Samuel to study, though, my faith has grown in importance." He fixed his eyes on her face, "I would be content that we each respect the other's faith but keep that part of our lives separate. I don't believe that you would look down on me or my children in any way because of our faith.

She was offended by the very thought, "Of course not! Samuel and Elizabeth are precious to me. I thought you knew that." Then she was troubled by what she had been hiding from him, "Mr. Breghert, you should know that I have been attending synagogue. I have asked Sarah and Rabbi what I must do to join your faith, and I have been learning a great deal."

His eyes twinkled at her, "You have?"

She looked at him accusingly, "Rabbi Kalisch told you."

He lifted his hands again to calm her, "Not in so many words no, but I did wonder why you kept it from me."

"I did not want you to think that I was doing it for you, because I was part of your house. I was and am drawn to your faith because of the people I have met who practice it. I still am not sure, but the more I learn the more I am drawn."

"Very much how I feel about you, although I would say that I am very sure of my feelings for you," he said, smiling.

"People will talk," she said, taking his hand and holding it to her lips.

He cupped her face in his hands, "People will always talk. We do not have to listen."

She could resist no longer. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his hesitantly. Then she waited for him to open his eyes. "Yes."

A smile lit his face, eyes most of all. "Yes?" When she nodded, he kissed her and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. She could feel him holding back, not pulling her as close as he wished or kissing her as deeply as he could. She was grateful for his restraint, because her own was in danger of slipping.

Slowly, she drew her head back and pushed against his chest. He released his hold on her and started to pull away, but she caught his hands and held them in front of her.

"I do not think I should stay in this house again until we are wed," she said, embarrassed by the hoarse sound of her own voice.

He shook his head, "I understand your concerns, but I had already planned to stay at my club."

"You have already made plans? Were you so sure that I would accept?" her tone was lighter now.

His tone was more serious, "Actually, no, I was not, but I thought that either way it would be best if we were separated."

She studied his face and eyes again, "Most men would have fired their housekeeper and stayed in their own home. I maintain that you would never take advantage, sir."

His lips dipped to capture hers again, and she released his hands so that she could hold his face, caressing the soft whiskers.

He drew away from her lips to plant soft kisses along her jaw. He whispered against her skin, "Would it be taking advantage to say that I intend to speak to the registrar on Monday?"

She shivered at the sensation of his breath on her skin but shook her head, "Not at all. I will leave. I have a small nest egg. It would be best. You should stay here with your children."

He pulled back, jaw clenched stubbornly and opened his mouth to protest, but she stilled him with her fingers on his lips.

"No harsh words. Not tonight. We can discuss it more in the morning, but tonight let us enjoy our new understanding before we part to sleep."

The muscle in his jaw relaxed, and he nodded, "I will likely not sleep tonight."

"I am almost certain that I will not," she agreed.

"Then stay here with me," he said impulsively and hastened to add, "To talk. We won't have this much time together for weeks. I will even sit there," he indicated an armchair, "While you sit here."

After a moment's hesitation, she nodded, and he pulled the chair closer before sitting down and taking her hand.

In this way, she spent her first night with her soon-to-be husband chastely discussing their plans for the future and caressing the hand that she would hold for a lifetime.

_**Reviews are welcome as always**_


	12. Planning

_**Many thanks to all who have read and reviewed this story so far. I had forgotten to write a disclaimer in any of the previous chapters, but I should say that this applies for all. Neither Mr. Breghert or Mrs. Hughes belong to me, however since I do not think their owners did them justice, I felt free to borrow them for a little while. I will return them unscathed but hopefully happier.**_

He stood on the step staring at his friend's door. As a man of four and forty, he felt more nervous than he ever had at four and twenty. This was ridiculous. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he glanced down to ensure that there was no food on his waistcoat, his trousers were satisfactorily pressed, and that his shoes were shined. He resisted the urge to tug on his collar, but he did straighten his tie. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock on the door which promptly opened in front of him.

"I thought you'd never knock," Joseph said and stepped aside to let him enter.

Charles nearly growled, "You've been watching me? Why didn't you spare me the misery?"

"Faint heart never won fair maid," his friend quipped and Charles could almost hear the laughter lurking underneath.

He scowled as he removed his cloak and hat. "You are enjoying your role far too much."

"No," Joseph said, "I am taking my role as protector seriously. It may have been Sarah that suggested your bride stay with us, but I admire and care for her as well." His face softened, "Your Mrs. Hughes will likely be the only 'daughter' who marries from our house. Let us all enjoy this time. It's only one more week before we will pass the role of caring for her to you permanently."

Even while he felt a wave of sympathy for his friend's misfortune, Charles flushed with pleasure at the thought of his nearing marriage. Two weeks were behind them. In only one more week, he would be wed to the woman that he grew to love more with each passing day. He only hoped she would be satisfied with the plans he'd finalized today. He looked toward the sitting room and even took a step in that direction before Joseph stopped him.

"She is in the back garden," he said and something about his face made Charles wary.

"Isn't it a bit chilly to be out there?" he asked.

Joseph inclined his head in agreement, "She had a letter today, from Ripon. I believe she needed to collect her thoughts."

Charles was troubled, "Her family is in Ripon."

Joseph shook his head stubbornly, "Her family is here. But I do believe that her letter was distressing. Perhaps you should go to her."

Charles agreed and started determinedly toward the back garden, pausing only long enough to gather his cloak.

She was sitting alone on a bench, letter open on her lap but forgotten while she looked into the distance. She looked up as he approached and smiled warmly with everything but her eyes.

"I had not realized it was so late," she said and shifted slightly to give him more room on the bench. He sat and took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips.

"Good afternoon my dear Mrs. Hughes," he said formally but allowing his eyes to twinkle as he said the same words he'd spoken every day for over two weeks. "It is not so very late. I have just come to remind you of an appointment you have."

She smiled back at him over their private joke, and her eyes seemed to lighten a little. "Thank you very much Mr. Breghert. I had nearly forgotten. I really should put it in my diary. When is it again?"

He made a great show of sighing and pulling his watch from his pocket, "In five days, eighteen and three quarter hours. Give or take a minute or two."

She smiled and squeezed the hand that still held hers. "I will be sure to write it in my diary tonight."

He inclined his head, "And if you do not, I will be sure to remind you again tomorrow."

She smiled and then her eyes slid away from his again and her free hand dropped to finger the letter in her lap.

His eyes traveled over her face with concern and then down to the letter in her lap. He broached the subject cautiously, "Joseph told me that you might have had some distressing correspondence."

She looked at him sharply then smiled sadly, "I had written to Davey's oldest brother, Richard. We were close enough I thought. They're the closest that I have to family, and, well, I thought they should know."

She handed him the letter wordlessly. He took it with some trepidation but his curiosity caused his eyes to scan the two sheets.

"_Disappointed in your lack of restraint…." "Nothing but a Jew's …" "Do not contact us again…." "You are dead to us…"_

His hand clenched on the letter. To think that someone that Elsie had graced with her regard should treat her in such a shameful manner made him as angry as he'd ever been. No longer able to sit still, he rose and paced back and forth for a moment before blurting out, "I will write to this brother-in-law of yours. He has no right to speak to you in such a way. Or perhaps I should go. With the railway, I could be there and back before the…"

He turned on his heel and ran squarely into her, nearly knocking her over before he was able to steady her. He released her and looked down to meet burning blue eyes. Her hand was on his chest pushing him back firmly.

"You will do no such thing. I neither need nor want you to fix everything," she said.

His jaw clenched tightly, and he bent so that his eyes were level with hers. "Then what do you want? I am to be your husband. It is my duty to love, honor, and protect you in every way."

"I want you," she said. Her hand relaxed and rested against his chest, "Just you, here with me and lending me your strength. Do you think I hadn't guessed something like this might happen? If not from him, then surely someone would feel they had the right to insult me, us."

The fire drained from him, and he gathered her into his arms, placing gentle kisses on her forehead. "I would spare you this."

She sighed, "Then we should not marry."

His arms loosened around her, and he drew his head back to protest.

She tightened her hold on him and said, "I did not mean that we would not, only that the only way to spare me unpleasantness would be to part from me completely, and at this point, I would never let you go."

He smiled against her cheek, "So we will have unpleasantness but each other?"

He felt her smile as well just before he felt her lips grazing his jaw, "I would think that we would have unpleasantness either way, but it would be much better to share our troubles than face them alone. Wouldn't it?" She leaned back to look at him in concern.

"It would indeed," he agreed and bent to capture her lips with his.

She pulled away after a few moments, breathless. "I wanted you to lend me your strength, not make me weak from your kisses."

He could feel himself almost grinning, "I had thought either would make you happy."

"Charles…," she said warningly but with a growing smile, then asked, "It is not so very long now is it?"

He drew his watch from his pocket, "Five days, eighteen and one half hours."

She smiled, and he bent to taste her amusement but she only let his lips brush against hers before she stepped back. "Perhaps we should sit to calm ourselves." He would have been disappointed had he not seen how hard she was struggling to breath. As he watched her breast rise and fall rapidly, he thought perhaps a time of calming might be best.

They sat on the bench with an almost respectable distance between them, but he kept her hand in his. He needed that connection to steady himself. They sat in silence, enjoying the approaching dusk for some time before he remembered his original errand.

"I had come to tell you that I made our final travel arrangements today, my dear," he said softly, waiting for her reaction.

She smiled, "I still think Paris is far too elaborate. We do not need so much."

He shook his head, "You deserve the best. I only wish that I could show you all the great capitals."

Now it was her turn to disagree, "That would keep us from Samuel and Elizabeth for too long. We both should see Samuel back to school."

He traced her fingers with his thumb, wondering if he should tell her what he'd arranged today. A glance at her and a reminder of their kisses from just moments before assured him that she wouldn't be troubled. She might even be glad.

"I hope you do not mind if we do not travel directly to Paris," he said and met her curious gaze. He was prompted to continue, "There is an inn in Dover where I have stayed many times. The owners know the restrictions of our faith. I had thought we could perhaps stay there our first night."

She watched him with her eyes narrowed slightly. "That's only a short trip."

He felt his ears heating, "I did not think we would want to be over-tired on our wedding night."

She looked away, and he saw her swallow before her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, "No, I do not think we'd want to be over-tired before we stop for the night."

He kept her hand held tightly in his and smiled in relief. She understood. He had known that she would.

After a few minutes she spoke again, softly, "It's strange. I loved Davey dearly but with him, I could have waited. We could have gone on to Paris."

He turned to look at her and studied her profile. "I understand. My first marriage was a match made by our parents. I came to love Abigail, but there was never this heat. I was never as drawn to her as I am now to you."

She turned her head to meet his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss her lips gently. When he pulled back, he asked with a lopsided smile, "Is it very long now?"

She drew his watch from his pocket, "Five days, eighteen and one quarter hours."

"Good," he breathed and leaned forward to kiss her again.

_**Reviews are welcome as always**_


	13. Warming

She closed her eyes in relief as the door shut behind her and then opened them again to study the room where she would spend the first night with her love, her husband. It was so good to finally be here. The train ride had been pleasant but excruciating; pleasant because they had shared a private compartment and had been able to sit closely in relative privacy, excruciating because they had not had complete privacy which had limited their closeness.

Her hands came to her face involuntarily to hide her blushes, even though she was alone at the moment. Was it right to feel this way? To want a man this much? To love a man this much? She only knew that she had never felt as complete as she felt when she was with Charles. She could only imagine how she would feel when they were joined together as closely as a man and woman could be, and she had imagined it more times than she would ever admit. Now, though, it was time to stop imagining. He would be here with her as soon as he finalized the arrangements for their luggage. They would finally be alone; alone in this room, with that bed, that large bed. She caught herself worrying her bottom lip and forced herself to stop.

Walking determinedly to the mirror, she began to remove the pins from her hat. She had always found it better to be doing than thinking at any time. While she removed her hat, she studied her reflection. She didn't flatter herself that she was a beautiful woman, but she wasn't completely unattractive, at least Charles did not find her unattractive. The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful and irresistible, and to him at least she was. She had hoped, perhaps, at some point to find someone that she could care for and who would care for her. In her deepest dreams, though, she had never imagined that she would find this, this deep love that she felt for Charles and that, to her amazement, he returned.

After removing her coat and hat, she used the face flannel and basin to remove some of the grime of travel. She had just finished loosening some of the pins from her hair and was studying the bed while she wondered whether she should remove more clothing when the door opened quietly behind her. Before she could turn completely around, Charles was behind her with his hands on her shoulders. She felt the chill through the layers of clothing.

"You're cold," she said, hands going up immediately to cover his in an attempt to warm them, "Have you been outside all this time?"

His lips were warm on the spot just behind and below her left ear, but the tip of his nose was still cold. He said ruefully, "I have been outside this entire time, but I can report that we only have to get ourselves to the dock on time tomorrow. Everything else is arranged."

She closed her eyes and tilted her head to allow him better access, thinking that she wasn't even sure she could take care of herself tomorrow, nor did she care whether they were able to get on that ship. She wanted nothing but now, here, this room and this man. "But still," she sighed, "You shouldn't have let yourself get so cold. You'll catch your death."

He rumbled against her ear and she could almost feel his voice vibrating through her, "Then turn and warm me, dear wife. You have that privilege now."

She turned in his arms, a smile on her lips. One hand came to rest on his chest and the other on his cheek, stroking his soft whiskers. "I do, don't I? Do I also have the privilege to remind you to wear your hat when it's raining and beg you to not eat so many sweets because they are bad for your digestion."

He laughed, "All that and more. Just as I have the privilege to insist you wear my cloak to warm you and to insist that you rest instead of doing 'just one more thing' before retiring for the night."

She drew his face to hers and lifted herself on her toes so that she could meet his lips. It took only the slightest pressure from her lips to make him respond. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. The hand that had only been resting on his chest now clutched his lapel tightly. The hand that had been on his cheek slipped back to tangle in his hair. His hands were caressing her back and finally came to rest on her bottom. There was no restraint now, no holding back, no stopping. A tiny moan escaped her which he accepted willingly through their kiss.

He pulled back far too quickly in her opinion and rested his forehead against hers. "The train ride took far too long." He sounded as breathless as she felt.

"Two hours, Mr. Breghert," she teased although his words echoed her own thoughts, "Not so very long surely."

He grunted, but she felt his half smile to prove that he understood her teasing. "I wanted nothing more than to hold you as closely as I am now. To be almost alone and not fully alone was excruciating."

She smiled, "And when did you learn to read my thoughts, Mr. Breghert? Was that some magic granted to you when you signed the register?"

"Perhaps," he said, kissing her again and sucking lightly on her bottom lip. "For instance, when I came in you were studying that large bed. Not concerned I hope?"

She could hear the apprehension overlaid with lightness and was quick to reassure him, "No, not at all. Actually, I wasn't quite sure what I should do." She leaned back to study his eyes, "I wanted to wait for you, but I wasn't sure if you'd rather I changed to my night dress before you came."

He swallowed convulsively and his eyes darkened. "I'm grateful to you for waiting. I'd rather we take this journey together."

"Journey?" she asked, wondering if he would mind if she tugged his tie loose.

"It is, isn't it?" he asked, "I had thought that I would walk the rest of my days alone, but instead I found you. Neither of us needs to ever be alone again. Tonight will just be the next step on that journey. A way to be closer."

Emboldened, she reached for his tie, "Yes, Mr. Breghert, closer please."

His response was immediate. His lips descended on hers once again but before they touched he whispered, "It would be my privilege."

_**Reviews are welcome as always. Supplemental chapter to follow shortly because this will remain a tame fic.**_


	14. Together

_**The promised wedding night. But I decided to keep it in this fic and just up the rating. I think a 'T' is justified. If anyone disagrees, let me know and I'll up the rating.**_

He could feel the warmth of her hand through the layers of his jacket and shirt. His hand rose to cup her cheek as he gazed into the darkening blue eyes. After tracing the line of her mouth with his thumb, he was drawn to replace his thumb with his lips. He tasted her lips again, drinking her in, desire stoked by knowing that tonight he could taste all of her. He pulled her even closer, wanting to feel her soft curves against his own hardness.

She gasped. This, all of this, was as she had imagined but more, much more. He was stronger than she'd imagined. The heat between them burned hotter. Her desire was more insistent. There was every danger that she would be carried away completely by her feelings for this man. When he caught her bottom lip between his and sucked lightly, she didn't think she would mind at all, not at all.

His hands were on the back of her dress, fumbling with buttons as he struggled to learn the nuances of women's clothing. He had never undressed a woman before. Abigail preferred that he came to her when she was already in bed with lamps blown out. A button popped off in his hand. His mind clouded with the thought that he would gladly tear them all away from her dress. He growled low in his throat. This was not right. He struggled to gain control of himself again. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her back and pulled his lips away from hers. But not willing to retreat fully, he rested his forehead against hers.

What was happening? What had gone wrong? She opened her eyes to see her husband, soon to be lover, with his eyes closed. "Charles? Have I offended?"

His eyes popped open, "No! No! Not at all. It is I who should apologize to you." He continued at her confused expression, "I am in danger of taking my own pleasure only and giving none to you."

She smiled. Dear, sweet, frustrating man. She took his hand in hers, placing it on her chest so that he could feel her racing heart, "There is little danger of that, my love."

He nodded his thanks and stared down at his hand on her breast in wonder at the effect he was having on her. "But still, I am not an animal. I have some control. I wanted this night to be perfect, but I am afraid…"

She covered his mouth with her fingers. "We are neither of us perfect. I think that might be too much to expect, but there will be more times. We will learn, will we not?"

Distracted by the caress of her fingertips on his lips, he closed his eyes again and spoke softly to cover the hoarseness of his voice, "Then guide me. I have not undressed a woman before. Show me."

She looked at him, confused. He had been wed before after all. Surely he had…

He shook his head to dispel her question. Bringing his first wife into a conversation with his second on his wedding night was not something he wished to do.

She thought about it for a moment. Perhaps he had not. Davey would help with her buttons at times, but had she ever seen all of him and he all of her? Only in moonlight and almost always shrouded by sheets and blankets. They had loved but because they were married and it was expected. With Charles, she did not think she could have resisted her desires married or not, expected or not.

She turned her back to him and said, "They are only buttons, Charles. Smaller than the ones on your clothes maybe, but just buttons."

He chuckled. Only buttons, but buttons that would reveal her body to him. He worked the first few loose with care and then asked, "Do all your dresses have so many of these small buttons?"

She laughed softly and leaned back at the brush of his warm breath against her neck. "Not all, but some do. Perhaps I should have worn one with fewer."

"I only thought that perhaps I might have to help you with them every night," he said, leaning forward to kiss the bared skin of her upper back.

She shivered under his touch and sighed, "Yes, please."

Emboldened by the huskiness of her voice, he kissed her again as he worked more buttons loose as quickly as he was able. Finally, he could slide the dress from her shoulders only to be confronted by another piece of armor. He grunted in surprise. "How many layers are there?"

She turned to him. He would never be able to deal with this piece of clothing without more skill. She reached behind her to loosen the laces just a little and then pressed the busk together, causing her corset to fall open.

He smiled his appreciation. That was a skill he needed to learn, and he told her so as he drew her close for another kiss. His lips trailed quickly from her lips to the curve of her neck. He was fascinated at how soft she felt now that the armor wasn't in the way. He caressed her back and sides and his lips dipped lower to her upper chest, making a slow but determined path toward the top of her shift. She was saying his name. He could feel the vibrations on his lips through her chest, and it excited him even more.

She pushed gently at the curly head that was worshipping her chest. As much as the sensations he was causing were nearly causing her knees to buckle, she wanted to feel more of him as well. "Charles, Charles," she repeated his name only to realize that instead of drawing his attention, it only made him murmur in appreciation. Finally, she said in the most authoritative voice she could manage while in this state, "Mr. Breghert."

He lifted his head to look at her, distracted finally from his goal by the tone of her voice. Was she unhappy? Had he gone too far? Her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen. He couldn't resist bending forward to soothe them gently with a kiss.

"Mr. Breghert, please," she said, "if you do that… You are far over-dressed sir. Would you leave me at such a disadvantage?"

He smiled, passions still enflamed, but he felt more in control of himself, enough to tease. "Mr. Breghert is it? And sir? I would have thought the words we spoke entitled you forever to Charles, at least while we are alone."

She returned the smile, but lifted her hand to his buttons, "You seemed distracted, Charles. I thought perhaps Mr. Breghert might attend."

He watched as she began to loosen the buttons on his waistcoat and leaned forward to speak low in her ear. "I think that you will find that you have the full attention of both Charles and Mr. Breghert."

Her hands faltered on the buttons, betraying her excitement. Her hands trembled. There was a certain note in his voice when he spoke so lowly that she could feel to her toes. He noticed. Frustrating, wonderful man.

"Should I do that?" he asked. She nodded and lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. The pleasure of her hand caressing his whiskers made him close his eyes and hum before continuing the task at hand.

He worked loose the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt faster than she ever could have, revealing a broad chest. Her hand trailed down his neck to trace along the line of his collarbone and then down to curl in the smattering of hair directly over his heart whose pace nearly matched her own.

Enough. They had explored enough. She was right. There would be other nights; more times this night if he was capable. It was time. He leaned down to cover her lips with his and pressed forward insistently. The bed behind her was his goal.

His kiss had changed. He was not as nearly out of control as he had been earlier, but there was no more exploring. He was ready. She was ready as well; more than ready if she admitted the truth. As she stepped backward, knowing that the bed was behind her to safely catch them both, she reached down to the buttons at his waist. When she had unbuttoned the two at the side, the flap was pushed forward by his hardness. The back of her hand brushed him when she sought the single button in the middle.

He growled again low in his throat when he felt her touch on him. His mind clouded again and instinct took over. He lifted her shift and her to lay her back on the bed. With quick movements, he had his trousers pushed down to his ankles and was kneeling between her legs. He opened his eyes to look into her blue ones again and when he had found himself, pushed into her warm depths.

It felt like welcoming him home. She watched as his eyes nearly closed for a moment and then opened to gaze into hers. Their gazes held. Her eyelids dropped at times as her pleasure built, but still she could feel his eyes on her. When his eyes closed, she was fascinated by the pleasure washing over his face. His eyes opened again and she found herself in their hazel depths.

His thrusts became erratic, and she could feel herself nearing the very top of pleasure. With one final push forward, they cried out as they found their peak together; together as they would always be.

_**Reviews are welcome as always. More to follow soon, but I need a little break. Writing smut is hard. (pun not intended at all)**_


	15. The End

_**Epilogue—14 years later, very early in the morning.**_

She awoke to not so gentle snores from behind her. Turning over, she saw that the source of those snores had rolled from his position curled around her to his back. She took a moment to study his features which were so very different when he was relaxed. The deep furrow that was often on his brow was gone. Good. It had been her duty and privilege to keep that line erased for the past fourteen years. She liked the lines around his mouth and eyes, though. She had seen them deepen last night as they laughed while they struggled to remove their remaining clothes including the trousers that had become hopelessly tangled around his legs. A smile lit her own face when she remembered that he hadn't even been able to wait to remove his boots before he loved her. It did something for a woman's pride to know that she was desired that urgently, even after such a time.

Her eyes traveled down to his broad shoulders and to the hand that was resting on top of the blanket; the same hand that had snapped her suspenders loose and rolled her stockings down her legs. He had quickly become an expert in removing her clothing. She thought of the way he had kissed down her leg as he removed her stockings and how his lips had also found their way to the juncture of her thighs. The thought of his warm breath on her center caused her breath to quicken, and she glanced quickly back at his face to see if he had wakened. His eyes were still closed, and his breathing was steady. She worried her bottom lip, wondering if she dared to wake him. Surely he was still exhausted from the travel. Then she remembered the time and care he had taken in exploring her body, tasting and touching her almost reverently until she was weak from the pleasure he gave her.

It took only the lightest pressure of her lips on his to cause him to wake. His eyes fluttered open and a slow smile spread across his features. A hand came up to stroke her cheek. His eyes glanced toward the still dark window and then back to her in confusion. "It's not morning yet?"

"No, I couldn't sleep," she said, leaning forward to brush kisses over his chest. He hummed in pleasure which she could feel vibrating through his chest.

"Worried?" he asked.

She stretched one leg over his and brushed her thigh across his growing hardness. "No, I've just missed my husband these past weeks, and I had grown accustomed to quiet nights."

He rolled to face her and pulled her thigh up over his hip. "For the thousandth time wife, I do not snore." He punctuated his words with kisses trailing from her shoulder down to her breast.

"No, of course not, you just breathe very loudly in your sleep." Her words would have sounded much harsher if her voice had not faded to a pleased sigh when his thumb grazed her center.

He raised his head from her breast to press an insistent kiss to her mouth, "Two weeks is too long. Next time you will come with me."

She responded by returning his kiss with fervor.

He lifted her knee over his hip, pressing closer until they were joined again. They made love with slow, lazy movements, kissing, caressing, and touching each other in all the secret places that had become familiar over time. As their love built gradually to its peak, they whispered words of devotion before collapsing against each other and falling back to sleep in exhaustion.

_**Later that night**_

He glanced first to his wife and then to his daughter. They were sitting together on the dark green, formerly baby blue, sofa. At times it was hard to believe that his daughter was old enough to be married in just a few short weeks. When he turned his attention back to the young man he was speaking with, he saw that his companion's attention was fixed on the sofa as well. He hid a smile behind the rim of his wineglass and wondered whether he'd been this distracted before wedding Elsie. Remembering the night before, he thought he often still was.

"Perhaps we should join them," he said, trying to keep the amusement from his voice.

Young Caleb Jacobson's head turned sharply, "Sir? I, um, you mean join the women?"

Charles forced himself not to roll his eyes. There was no one else to join in the room. His son, however, was not quite as discreet.

"You've been watching Elizabeth all night. Surely you would like to at least speak to her."

"David," Charles chastised his son gently, "You are not yet bar mitzvah. You have much to learn in the next few weeks."

Elsie looked up at her husband and smiled. She had wondered when he would have pity on Elizabeth's young man. Young Mr. Jacobson had been unable to keep his eyes off her the entire night, and more than once she had caught Elizabeth's attention drifting as well. She had thought Charles would be more understanding, especially after his own urgent distraction last night.

"Elizabeth was just telling me that you were planning to go to Paris for your wedding trip, Mr. Jacobson," she said. "That sounds delightful."

The young man's eyes dropped, and his cheeks tinted pink. "Yes," he said, "I have never been but I have heard it is beautiful. I thought we could discover it together."

"I am sure it will be beautiful," Elsie said, smiling.

Elizabeth spoke then, "What were your favorite places Mama? From when you and Papa went."

Elsie's face heated instantly, "I'm sure it's changed much since we were wed."

"Not so much, surely," David, who took too much after his forthright father, protested, "I'm positive that it would be much the same."

"Yes, Mrs. Breghert," Mr. Jacobson joined in the unintentional but still mortifying torture, "It would be wonderful to say that we saw some of the same places."

Charles cleared his throat. He rolled his shoulders. Oh no. He would only make it worse. "What your mother means to say is that we, um, actually weren't in Paris per se."

"Were you in another village or town nearby? That might be just as lovely," Elizabeth asked.

"Well, it was…," Charles fumbled for words, hopeless liar that he was.

Elsie squeezed her eyes shut for only a moment before deciding to rescue him, "We missed our ship in Dover. We spent our wedding trip there. It's a lovely city."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide, and she looked ready to speak. Elsie looked at her sharply. She let the matter drop.

Finally, Mr. Jacobson took his leave. Charles let Elizabeth walk with him to the door but no further. There were limits to his indulgence. David was sent to bed.

Charles smiled at Elsie, "We missed our ship? At least you didn't tell them what caused the delay."

She rolled her eyes, "You were making it sound far too intriguing." She couldn't resist a bit of teasing. "Do I need to remind you that our trunks at least went to Paris?"

He settled down onto the sofa beside her. "Leaving us with only one set of clothes," he nodded. "Which is why you have no idea whether Dover is a lovely city or not. I doubt we spent more than three hours out of our room during the entire week."

Any reply which she would have given was cut off by Elizabeth returning to the room, blushing prettily. Elsie sighed. At least the wedding was only three more weeks away. Those two were completely besotted with each other.

The love bird nearly floated across the room to bid them goodnight. After kissing Elsie on the cheek, she turned to her father but glanced back at Elsie with a half-smile that was dangerously reminiscent of Charles when he was in a mischievous mood.

"Papa," she began and Elsie could tell from Charles's warm smile that he had no idea what was coming, "All those years ago when you explained to me that we were going to have a baby joining the family, do you remember what you told me?"

Charles's ears turned bright pink. Now Elsie was intrigued. "What did he tell you?"

Elizabeth could barely contain her laughter, "He told me you ordered a baby when you were in Paris."

Elsie stifled her own laughter and glanced at Charles whose face was now flaming.

"And now I find you never even went to Paris," Elizabeth said, eyes shining with amusement.

Charles coughed, shifted his shoulders, and rubbed the top of his ear. "Well, perhaps children may be ordered just as well from Dover."

_**And that, my friends, is THE END. Thank you for bearing with me on this journey to make Mr. Breghert happy. **_

_**Extended Author's note and corrections: Firstly, I have only watched the mini-series of 'The Way We Live Now'. In it Mr. Breghert's first name is never given, I have chosen Charles for obvious reasons and a bit of research did show that many 19**__**th**__** century British Jewish men had what I would consider more 'English' names. In Anthony Trollope's book, however, I believe his name is Ezekiel. I found this out after writing the first three chapters. Too late to change. Sorry. Secondly, I realize that probably no rabbi in the 19**__**th**__** century would be happy about a Jewish man marrying a gentile woman, but this fic would have been a hundred chapters long if I had made them wait for Elsie to complete the process of joining the Jewish faith and people. I believe the reason that Charles gave for not wishing any delay was plausible, and I'm banking on Joseph being merciful to his old friend. This fic has been on my mind since watching Jim Carter's excellent portrayal of Mr. Breghert over a year ago, and I'm glad to finally have it out of my head and onto paper/computer. I hope that I have not offended anyone and that I have entertained at least a little. **_


End file.
